


Letters

by 28_Characters_Later



Series: MarcoBodtWeek Fics [4]
Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Darco is such a little brat, Gen, again i really wasn't sure so it's just teen because Darco swears
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-17
Updated: 2015-05-17
Packaged: 2018-03-29 20:07:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3908941
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/28_Characters_Later/pseuds/28_Characters_Later
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Final fic I wrote for MarcoBodtWeek here we have the notes Marco and his split personality leave for each-other, the only way they can communicate. Marco’s heard about having a way to talk to multiple personalities directly but with how Darco talks to him he would -not- want that being able to be screamed at him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Letters

Marco stretched and yawned as he woke up and rubbed his eyes, being careful around the scar tissue over his right eye. The teen picked up the eye-patch from his bedside table, noticing a note there as well and after slipping his eye-patch on he picked that up as well. He already knew who it was from, and while he was glad they were following the rules and leaving letters for him rather than just doing whatever they wanted, it was still un-nerving to be holding a note he’d written, with no memory of doing so.

_‘We’re running low on chocolate again. You need to get some more next time you go out.'_

He let out a long frustrated sigh. That was a lot of chocolate, it might have kept the split personality calm but if it was already almost gone, was it even healthy to eat so much chocolate in such a short amount of time? Marco ran a hand through his messy bedhead hair as he sat up. Taking the note with him, the teen slowly working himself into his wheelchair by the side of the bed. Getting in and out on his own, no matter how many times he did it, was always difficult. He often wished his legs _were_ paralyzed because then he’d at least be able to use the now useless things as an odd form of support. But no, the legs still had feeling and while the bones had healed, they healed so poorly that if he tried to use them without the help of another person, or with a walker, it was pure agony. So while the teenager technically had a choice he preferred to still take care of himself, rather than painfully clinging to something or someone all the time.

After gingerly seating himself in his chair, and unlocking the brakes, he pushed and pulled the large wheels to manoeuvre the chair around to wheel out of the room. Getting to a small desk Marco grabbed a pen and wrote down a reply on the same sheet of paper. He read it back over to himself a few times to make sure it hopefully wouldn’t make the other angry, which was so easy to do. If his split personality were mad at him, the chances he would be made to do something bad were very high.

Feeling sort of satisfied, Marco set the note on his lap before trying to mentally pass the control of his body over to the other. He hated doing this, true it was needed when they were ‘talking’, but he hated the feeling of slowly forcing himself to lose consciousness and willingly give control over to his alter. At least giving control by choice didn’t leave him as dizzy and disorientated as it did whenever he reclaimed control after the other forcibly took it.

The boy’s eye closed and his head dropped as he lost consciousness. His mental roommate claimed control lifting their head to look around. They noticed the note almost right away and skimmed it quickly.

‘Darco that was a lot of chocolate, and it’s not the cheapest. Please try to go easy on it. I can’t get any more the next time I go out but I will try to get some more soon.’

Darco narrowed their eye as they read the note. So Marco wasn’t going to buy anymore chocolate. The in-need-of-anger-management split personality snatched up the pen and scratched out a reply under Marco’s. They didn’t bother to read it over before they returned control to Marco.

Once in control again Marco blinked and rubbed his forehead a little before reading what Darco left him.

_‘You’re lucky I actually am identifying as Darco today and not Darcie. You didn’t bother to fuckin’ ask you just assumed. You’ve got enough money, last time I checked you did, just get some more chocolate or I’ll steal some.’_

Marco blinked, and read it again. Darco… went through his money and counted it? If the two of them were in separate bodies that would be borderline abusive or controlling, did it still fall under that even though they shared a body? Oh how Marco wished he could get rid of his split personality. They seemed to have become their own person with likes and dislikes, having even – somehow – formed connections to people, so maybe he didn’t want them gone from existence, but at least out of Marco’s mind. That would be nice.

Marco ran a hand through his hair before writing out a reply to Darco, taking his time to make sure it was perfectly worded. Another thing he hated: feeling like he was walking on eggshells around the person living in his mind. And the fact that doing so was far better than dealing with them angry.

Once the little note was finished Marco relaxed himself to hand control back over to the other.

Once back in the mental driver’s seat, Darco snatched up the letter and read it over with a bored expression, clearly not bothered that they were upsetting Marco.

‘I’m sorry I didn’t ask first, that was rude but please don’t swear at me. And please do not go through my things, I do not go through yours. I can’t spent too much money on chocolate because I still need enough for food, as well as food and litter for your cats. All seven of them that I let you keep even though I’m allergic. I’m sure you wouldn’t be happy if you got your chocolate but Mittens or Rabies or Cyanide – or any of the others – had to then go hungry. Please try to understand. I will get you more chocolates when I can. I promise. Please don’t steal any.’

Darco sneered down at the note. They hated that Marco had a point. They didn’t want their cats to starve, or go without fresh litter. With the page in one hand they drummed on the wheelchair armrest with the fingers of their other hand, thinking over how to reply. They didn’t want to back off. They wanted the chocolate, but the last time they stole cat food Marco had made a stack of kitten adoption posters and was going to put them up all over town as punishment. Darco didn’t even remember what they did to make that not happen. They could threaten to swear at old ladies again unless Marco found a way to score some chocolate as well.

Darco started to scribble down the new threats before they paused, thought about adoption posters, and crumpled the whole page up, bouncing it against the wall. Threatening Marco and ordering him to find a way to buy what they wanted wouldn’t work. Reaching over, grabbing a fresh sheet of paper Darco roughly wrote out another note before giving the control back to Marco.

Marco rubbed his head as he blinked back into consciousness. The sun had shifted position across the floor. Darco had taken a while with that last note, Marco was almost afraid to read what it had to say.

_‘I can swear at you if I want to, fuckwit. ~~And listen here fuckstick,~~ You ~~better~~ need to still get food for my cats. Get everything and then after if there’s still enough, then get at least a little chocolate, ~~fucker~~ ~~please~~ ok? Good.’ ___

__Marco sighed. Well that was tamer than he had feared, and Darco came so close to actually saying please for a change. It was after a string of insults and swears, but it was still an almost please. This was as good as he was going to get. The crossed out words showed Darco was starting to get frustrated they weren’t explicitly being given exactly what they want. Marco knew from experience if he tried any further to get Darco to wait for chocolate he would just receive a note of swears and insults. He’d gotten Darco to cross off a few swears, and almost say please, as well as say ‘if there was enough money after’. That really was about all he could hope for._ _

__Running a hand through his hair, Marco maneuvered the chair back into his room to get dressed and start his day._ _


End file.
